


if i could see your colours

by brokenglass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:46:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenglass/pseuds/brokenglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au! </p>
<p>and so what if zayn is colour blind, he still produces amazing art, so what's the problem? dates. they're his problem. as soon as they find out, they make their excuse, everyone but liam payne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if i could see your colours

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on the song colourblind by darius.

It never occurred to Zayn that being completely colour blind hindered his life in anyway, yes he couldn’t see colour, everything to him was black and white. But it didn’t bother him in the slightest, he identified colours by judging how dark the shade was, something he had became quite good at over time. Despite living a colourless life Zayn was still the top artist in his class, blowing his professors and fellow classmates away with his stunning – and colourful – pieces of artwork.

The only thing that his inability to see colour got in the way of was relationships. Every girl – and boy – that Zayn got close to would soon make their excuses and leave once they found out Zayn only saw the world in black and white. He didn’t understand why it made people shy away from him, what was so bad about being colorblind? He could see perfectly well. He wasn’t fully blind. It wasn’t even as if he was colorblind with how good he was at guessing the shades. But it had now dawned on Zayn that he wasn’t ever going to find someone who didn’t mind about his inability and loved him, for him. For all the little things that his friends adored about Zayn, a crooked smile, the dark mass of hair that adorns his head and most importantly, his carefree attitude. The boy just really doesn’t give a damn what you do as long as you don’t offend him or get him into serious trouble. Otherwise, you’re just another person for Zayn to sit back and watch.

Zayn took a drag from the cigarette between his lips as he made his way to the impromptu art class that he got a call about this morning. Apparently they were doing portraits of live models, something in which Zayn found the certain challenge of not knowing who they were, so he couldn’t depict on what he thinks they would be wearing.

He strolled down the street towards his college, feeling the warm morning breeze filter through his lungs, cleaning them of the toxic smoke he’d breathed through only moments ago. He knows that if the retina’s in his eyes worked, he would stay outside all day. He could tell that the sky would bleed into the horizon; it does in black and white.

Once inside his art room, Zayn sets up his easel and takes his charcoal pencils from his bag. Not everyone is there so he takes a stroll around the room, observing the drawing that line the walls, reading bulletins about upcoming events and listening to the mindless chatter going on around him in the room.

Before long everyone is taking their seats and Zayn follows, sitting down in his seat and setting his pencils on his lap. Hushed whispers disperse into the air as the model takes his seat fidgeting so he sits just right, so everyone can see properly. For a moment, Zayn is speechless. The model is breathtakingly beautiful. His hair is dark, he can tell. But not as dark as Zayn’s, there’s something different about this guy, the pigment in the grey – black Zayn can see is nothing like he’s ever seen before. And his eyes, they’re dark too. Almost the same colour as his hair Zayn would think.

Pulling himself back from the clouds of thoughts Zayn brings his pencil down onto the pad in front of him. He sketches the lines of the boy’s body carefully, making sure he gets the lines of his body right, the way his hips flow into his legs, his broad shoulders mould effortlessly into the boy’s neck.

Zayn’s eyes don’t move from his page much, only taking his eyes up to the beautiful being sitting directly in front of him. Their eyes meet a few times, and the boys smiles leaving Zayn’s cheeks to flush. The boy moves ninety degree’s every fifteen minutes and so by the end of it, he’s got his back to Zayn, giving him time to add the fine detail to his piece and not blush every time their eyes meet. The professor signals the end of the time allowance and the students begin to pack away their things, Zayn overhears a few of the girls talking about how good looking he is and Zayn smirks, because he is. Zayn shoves his stuff into his bag and slings it over his shoulder.

While Zayn is strolling home, once again taking the air through his lungs, his phone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket and answers it, it’s Harry. His long term best friend who never fails to put him in a good mood. Zayn arranges to meet Harry at the bar not far from his apartment. Zayn has known Harry since they were both very little and Zayn is the only one who knows that, that certain curly haired friend is having a relationship with their English teacher, Mr. Tomlinson. But Zayn being the supportive friend he is, he never mentions it or jokes about it, because at least Harry has someone who cares about him in a non platonic sense unlike Zayn.

Zayn hasn’t got much time before he’s meeting Harry so he goes straight into his apartment and takes a shower, letting the hot flow of water fall over his tensed muscles. Sitting down in front of an easel is a past time Zayn loves, but it makes his muscles become tense and stiff, he likes to think that if he had someone to come home to every day, to relieve him of his aches and pains his life wouldn’t be far from complete. But Zayn doesn’t have that special someone and that’s why he goes to sleep alone every night, longing for someone to be in the space next to him on his bed. 

After drying himself off he checks the time on his phone and see’s that he has a new message. It’s from Harry, telling him that ‘there’s someone he wants him to meet’ Zayn knows what this means, it’s another one of Harry’s ridiculous attempts at setting him up on a date. Every attempt Harry had made didn’t turn out well, either they hated the fact that Zayn couldn’t see colour or they were so boring and dull that he almost falls asleep during the dates. But Zayn will always go along for Harry’s sake, because the boy is just trying to help. Zayn picks out his favourite checked shirt which he definitely knows is red and black because Harry told him when they brought it, just so Zayn didn’t buy the pink and black because Harry really hates pink. He slips on his jeans and his trainers then styles his hair before he’s ready to meet Harry.

When he steps out onto the pavement the sky is a dull grey, so he knows it’s starting to drop dark. He makes his way over to the bar where he goes most Friday evenings with Harry and sometimes Mr. Louis Tomlinson. The sign over the door is illuminated and he steps through the doorway, hearing the loud music and seeing the black and grey sea of bodies trying to locate his best friend. He finally spots the curly head of hair and makes his way over to him.

“Harry!” He shouts loudly over the music, gaining the attention of his friend. Harry turns and beams at the boys, greeting him over the music. He taps someone next to him on the shoulder to gain his attention, as soon as that pigment of grey catches Zayn’s eye he knows who it is, the model. And Zayn can’t quite believe his luck.

“Zayn, this is Liam, Liam this is Zayn!” Their eyes catch and the realization clouds over Liam’s pigmented pupils and his deeply coloured lips curl into a smile, showing a set of bright teeth.

“Nice to meet you, Zayn”

“You too Liam”

Harry smiles and leaves them to it, the two converse until the early hours of the morning, and Liam finds out a lot about Zayn, and Zayn finds out a lot about Liam. Like that he has one kidney and even though he can, he decides not to drink. He’s not really into art, but the modeling thing just seemed like a good idea to get to know people, although he hasn’t really met anyone up until now. At that they look at each other and smile, and Liam still doesn’t know that Zayn can’t see the colours. But somehow he knows that Liam is different and Liam won’t care.

The two boys swap numbers and agree that they’ll meet up soon, which Zayn really hopes they do. Because there’s something about Liam, something that’s getting into his head. He’s different and he’s genuine. Like the smile he has, it always reaches his eyes, they crease up in the corners and the pupils dilate to show just how happy he really is, and that enthralls Zayn because wow, it’s so bloody perfect.

Zayn falls asleep happy, knowing that he’s pulled a friend out of his black and white world.

+

It just so happens that Liam contacts Zayn the next day, and asks him to meet him at the same bar so that they can take a walk, just to talk. Bond more. And it’s that sort of thing that makes Zayn’s cheeks crack when he smiles because its something you don’t get often, you don’t get people just wanting to talk anymore.

Zayn is smiling when he gets to the bar and see’s Liam standing outside, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Hey” Liam greets when he sees him, Liam and Zayn walk around aimlessly, talking more like they’d been friends for like, like Harry and Zayn were. All the time they’re walking, Zayn’s trying to build up the courage to tell Liam about his inability, because it seems different with Liam than it does everyone else and the dates he went on before he just told them, but Zayn doesn’t know if this is a date or just talking. But he decides to tell him anyway, and he prays to himself that he didn’t make the wrong decision.

“Liam, I’ve got something to tell you, em, about me” Zayn for the first time in his life struggles to get his words out, because he just doesn’t want to disappoint Liam in anyway. Liam nods, waiting for Zayn to go on.

“I’m color blind. Like, full on color blind. All I can see is black and white” Zayn breathes heavily after the words tumble from his lips. He looks at Liam, to see what his reaction is and when he doesn’t say anything, Zayn’s heart sinks.

“I know, it’s horrible—“

“Actually, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard in a long time” Liam cuts in, smiling at the boy next to him. Zayn looks into Liam’s eyes, and see’s truth. He’s telling the truth.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, you get to see everything for what it is. You’re not given false representation because of the colour of something; you see it loud and clear. Black and white” Zayn smiles, because he’s never looked at it like that before. He’s always just got on with it.

It’s only an hour before Zayn is at Liam’s apartment, and their lips are attached to each other. Their hands are feeling every available area of skin, discarding clothes and taking each other places they’ve never been before. Zayn nibbles at Liam’s lower lip as the younger boy undoes the buckle of his jeans.

It’s when Zayn’s head is resting against Liam’s chest as they come down from their high that something clicks for Zayn, he realizes that he’s found someone special. He’s got that twinkle, that grace.

“Liam?” Zayn says, breaking the comfortable silence that’s come over them as Liam’s fingers twirl over Zayn’s biceps, stomach and chest.

“Yeah Zayn?”

“Why has it taken me so long to find someone who understands?” The words come out as a whisper from Zayn’s mouth; he can feel Liam’s eyes on the back of his head as he waits for his answer.

“I guess you were just waiting to find me, eh?” Zayn nods and snuggles down into Liam’s chest and sighs in contentment.

+

Four years later and Zayn still sighs in contentment whenever he’s reminded that Liam is his, and always will be.


End file.
